


Marvel One-Shots

by Dragonkitty



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 09:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11711268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonkitty/pseuds/Dragonkitty
Summary: A slew of one-shots I have from my Tumblr, @letsgetoutaliveHope you like 'em! Mostly Bucky fics. Any thoughts, send 'em my way.





	1. Pumpkin Spice (Bucky x Reader)

You had been struggling with sleep since joining up with the Avengers. It wasn’t that the team itself was so scary, but it was just something new. Using your powers for good this time, and not just hiding, felt weird. But then again sleep and you had never gotten along all that well.

What you discovered when you struggled with sleep after the first week was that there was another who frequently had the same challenges.

You had discovered the way up to the roof pretty easily and had stationed yourself up there with a few bottles of beer and some music. You were rocking out to some old Bob Dylan, swaying with the cool breeze the rooftop at night afforded you, when you noticed someone to your left, “Jesus Christ!” You almost dropped the beer you were holding, startled slightly to see Bucky Barnes standing nervously by you.

The man was a good six-foot-something, towering over you as you sat, “I’m sorry, Y/N! I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you OK?” He knelt down, helping steady you as you couldn’t help but laugh.

You nodded your head with a smile, “I’m good, Buck. Just wasn’t expecting you. What’re you doing up here?” You watched as he took a seat next to you, grabbing a beer as though it were the most natural thing in the world. His movements were swift and silent as he popped the cap off with a metal thumb, almost smirking at the very fact that he could.

He took a drink and leaned back, “Same as you, I guess. I don’t sleep very well most nights. All that stuff in here.” He looked down slightly as he tapped his head with the metal finger, a gesture choosing to be more rough with himself.

In your time since arriving Bucky had said maybe ten words to you in total. Most were either ‘yeah’ ‘sure’ ‘no’ and ‘ok’. Not that you minded, but this seemed rather sudden. The man opened up to almost no one, as far as Steve had told you, and you never wanted to press that issue. He had a history of abuse about a mile long and you weren’t going to poke at that. Not your place.

“Sleep’s always been a fickle mistress to me. Gives me time to enjoy the city, though. Never got to see it from up here.” You smiled as Dylan continued to play and took a drink of the beer kept cool by the weather. Your eyes danced over the thousands of sparkling artificial lights below. You imagined people running place to place, cabs speeding through and almost killing people. It was a city alive and breathing, awake at all times just like you.

He seemed to consider this, “Fickle mistress… I like it.” Taking a long drink of the beer, confusion washed over his unshaven features, “Woah, what is this?” He looked at the drink incredulously, unsure what had happened.

A laugh fell from your lips and you leaned back, holding up the label, “It’s from Shipyard, ‘Smashed Pumpkin’. You know, a lot’s changed. Like how this is the time of year where we put pumpkin in literally everything. I’m waiting for pumpkin flavored asprin.” You grinned widely and Bucky let out a hearty laugh.

Taking another long drink, he considered the alcohol before nodding, “You know what, it’s really not bad. You got more of these?” He peered around you, spotting the six pack you had brought up, planning on getting drunk alone. You’d settle for tipsy with Bucky, given the choice.

It was how the night went, thankfully. Bucky found himself laughing for the first time in a long time and you found yourself getting comfortable. Once 3AM rolled around, however, the two of you decided to sneak your separate ways and emerge from your rooms. Tony might not like the idea of the newbie sneaking to the roof to drink.

But soon enough it became a ritual. Even with the changing of the seasons, on the nights Bucky had his nightmares he would head up to the roof with you, drinking pumpkin beer or blueberry wine… whatever you had deemed ‘fall’ worthy alcohol. He never teased you or told you it was stupid and he always had just as much as you. He’d listen to you talk about your world, and soon enough he was telling you about his.

About a week after it had started Bucky looked at you, “So what’s the deal with fall, anyway?” He had a bit of a smile, having picked up on the preference of the season, if the Halloween decorations in your room didn’t already give it away.

A shy smile crept and you hid it with a bottle of beer, Elysian this time, “Just always made me feel at peace. The air isn’t quite cold yet, everything is so fleeting. The smells, the temperature, the leaves… Hell, even the beer. Pumpkin spice everything makes me happy. Silly as it is, it’s just always been my creature comfort.” He watched as the smile grew into one you couldn’t hide anymore. Your smile was bright and he liked it.

“Sounds kind of nice. It’s good to keep memories like that, you know? Hold on to the ones you can and let go of the ones that do you no good.” It was a strange sensation, to Bucky, that he was feeling towards you. He understood that he might have been wise to follow his own advice, but there was this piece of him that wanted you happy. Even if he couldn’t verbalize that part, he wanted nothing more than to see you with that warm smile you couldn’t wipe away.

_She’s beautiful. But I’m broken… She could never love a man like me._

Your routine had caught the eye of the most keen of the spies and Natasha had begun smirking at you. It was like a fly you couldn’t quite swat away, watching her almost creepy smile, the knowing smile that almost freaked you out. She never said a word, however. Because what she also noticed was the way Bucky had relaxed some. He wasn’t as jumpy and there were times on a most recent mission he had helped, thought his way through rather than punched.

It had been surprisingly hard for you the first time Bucky was gone on his mission, one without you, leaving you to again perch on the roof alone with the beer. A few texts had been sent his way, but you hardly wanted to be seen as the woman who stifled her teammates. Besides, he had so much going on, the thought of being with you couldn’t have been one of those thoughts.

Waking up the next morning was only by the grace of god, even with those two hours you had managed. You looked drained but you felt decent. The place was quiet with the emptiness of those on a mission as you perched by marble counter in the kitchen, wearing one of Bucky’s oversized shirts that had ‘accidentally’ been mixed in your laundry, and a pair of gym shorts. You didn’t care. You were staring at the coffee pot and trying to will it to work faster.

“Surprise, Y/N.” A voice startled you from behind and you realized you were going to have to work on your startle response. Instead you turned with a smile, seeing a slightly worse-for-wear Bucky standing. His clothes were a bit tattered, but he looked otherwise OK. A smile was on his face as he carried over a Starbucks cup, handing it to you, “It’s not pumpkin spice… but it is a fall flavor. The lady said it’s good if you have a sweet tooth.”

The thought that had gone into his gesture struck you, taking the warm beverage and not registering that the others weren’t around. Nat was probably already in the shower and you imagined Steve was patching himself up, what little he needed. But there was Bucky standing there with a Starbucks cup.

You looked at the side, almost about to ask if he had made it breve, your favorite, before realizing he had. Extra indulgent. It made you smile more. His grey blue eyes were focused on you as if you were the only person in the room. And you might as well have been. Closing your eyes you took a sip, tasting some of the salt, along with the white mocha and the toffee nut and caramel. You perked up almost immediately, “It tastes just like fall! What is it?” You were suddenly awake even without the caffeine, trying to savor instead the warmth and taste.

He laughed a little and rubbed his already mussed hair, “The lady called it a… uh, salted caramel white mocha. I know you said mocha wasn’t your favorite, but white was.” The combination was heavenly as you drank it.

But he wasn’t done. Reaching behind himself, he carefully produced a vibrant orange and red leaf. It was a maple, you knew that much, but the size and color was incredible. He handed it over with a smile, “I don’t do bouquets or anything, so I hope this is OK. I mean, I get if you’re not really into it. It’s just a leaf.” There was red on the cheeks of the Winter Soldier, and suddenly you realized that maybe he did in fact see you as more than just some new kid.

He had never taken pity on you those nights on the roof. He wondered on his own if he’d ever have the courage to tell you how much it had meant that you stayed and talked. And listened. He’d never felt so terribly comfortable until he had met you.

Putting down the drink you took the leaf with a gentle smile, “Buck… this is perfect. I can’t wait to press it and keep it. I’ve never seen anything so lovely.” You gently placed the leaf down onto the marble counter and away from anything that might harm it. It was fragile, and it was perfect. You wanted it safe forever.

“Me either.” Bucky was smiling as he stared straight at you, something you caught as your eyes turned back. He stepped closer, brushing away a stray hair by your face with his oddly disarmingly soft fingertips, “You’ve given me so much, Y/N… I don’t know if I can ever find a way to thank you. All those nights on the roof, you helped me forget my nightmares and I didn’t even think that was possible.” He let out a soft but nervous laugh, looking away ever so slightly.

You reached up, hand against his scruff that tickled you so, “Hey… I’d do anything for you, Bucky. You know that. I’ll always be here with you.” Your own smile left him speechless and for the first time in his life, Bucky was terrified.

But I have to. I have to know. He closed the gap between you two and all at once you felt his lips on yours. He was full of need and something so much more. As he wrapped his arms around you, taking care not to cause you any harm, he held you close as you uncrossed your legs and pulled him in.

“Bucky…” You whispered the words softly as he broke away from the kiss. His forehead rested gently against yours and you could hear his rapid breathing, the nervousness that echoed through him. His entire life he thought he knew what he was afraid of, but as it turned out, losing you might have been it.

_She could never want a broken man._

As if hearing his thoughts, you smiled, tracing your fingers along his jaw as you whispered into his ear, “You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted. I’d give up pumpkin spice for you.” It caused you to giggle nervously, the man laughing as well.

“Let’s not get too drastic. How about we just settle for spending more time together… we don’t need to get rid of the spice just yet. The spice must flow.” He raised an eyebrow and grinned, causing you to laugh that he had actually made a Dune reference.  
You shook your head and wrapped your arms around his neck, “Sorry, Buck. But I’m never letting you go.”


	2. Service Dog (Bucky x Reader, drabble)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This little picture is my motivation :) http://yawpkatsi.tumblr.com/post/153609495427/dont-even-try-to-make-bucky-see-reason-sammy   
> It's adorable and delightful.

“Bucky…” You sighed heavily, looking over at the man, a man you had come to know as more than just the Winter Soldier. He was stoic, he was cold, he was occasionally unpredictable to some. But now…

He smiled widely, adjusting the large bag slung around the shoulder with his metal arm, “She got tired!” Inside the bag, much to your surprise at first, was the German Shepherd that Sam had helped him get once he was settling back into civilian life.

The dog looked thrilled, smiling and panting in the overly-large bag (where did he even find it???) staring at everyone and everything.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Bucky, she’s a service dog. She doesn’t get tired after a walk around the city.” You looked back at him and sighed heavily.

The dog perked up and stuck her head out further, licking at Bucky’s face and causing him to laugh, “Ok, fine! You got me. I just… don’t those girls carry their dogs in bags? I’ve seen it around. That’s a thing people do now, right?”

Right. Of course. Occasionally it escaped you that Bucky didn’t exactly read gossip columns online or watch trash TV with you. He was a man who was still recovering from war and being frozen for years at a time. This was not a man who understood that dogs didn’t typically go into bags to get carted around the city. At least, not dogs this size.

He was relaxed, though. And the dog was licking his face still, “Tell you what, take her out of the bag and we’ll go for a walk. Trust me, she probably prefers it. Sam trained her that way.” You grinned and raised an eyebrow. Bucky smiled, blushing a little as he let the dog down. Immediately she jumped out of the bag and stood by Bucky at attention. She was panting, clearly happy, but she was happier now that she’d been allowed to do her job again.

“So… am I using her right? Sam said she was a service dog, but I don’t know what service she’s supposed to do.” The smile didn’t leave his face as he knelt by the dog, stroking her soft fur. Since the adoption of the dog, Bucky had slept through the night pretty regularly. Even when his flashbacks started, the dog would feel it, yip, and gently lick his hand, bringing him back to reality. Bucky had no idea the therapy she provided. Thank god for Sam Wilson, right? The man who had run a service placing dogs with veterans.

You smiled, walking over and gently pushing back Bucky’s hair as he stood to face you, bright and happy, “Yeah. You’re doing just fine.”


	3. At Home (Bucky x Reader)

It was a simple sort of quiet as you walked through. You’d lived in the city your whole life, but the close outskirts sometimes rivaled in their mystery. This was no exception. The Avengers had gone out once more on a mission and you had been tasked to stay behind. Your team trusted you enough to leave you in charge of making sure New York didn’t burn to the ground. Whenever they came back, however, things were always electric and you always felt like you were one spark shy of their shock.

Your feet hit a puddle in the old, empty warehouse. It felt like something out of a movie, though you suspected the place had been mostly empty by now. The surrounding neighborhoods were getting nicer, jobs in tow, and there had been fewer people to mess up the old building. It was a matter of time before someone came in here and took it over. Right? That’s how these things worked. The world moved on.

Climbing the old, stone and metal stairs of the building that echoed your footsteps you felt the cool autumn air around you. It was a damp and dark day, but you liked those. The grey clouds had flooded the sky and felt like a blanket. You’d spent enough time already wrapped up, reading books and drinking coffee while waiting to defend the city against literally nothing. Harlem, Hell’s Kitchen, and the lower ‘burbs were pretty taken care of, all things considered. You made a note to write Jessica a thank you letter.

The place had once been littered with graffiti and bottles, but you had cleaned it up some. This weird warehouse had become your refuge when the Tower was too filled with Avengers. It was always hard to see them smiling, but it was harder when Bucky was there. You loved when he was around smiling, and the two of you had become friends, but ever since Clint pointed out the obvious that you were in love, you had avoided him quite a bit.

Walking towards one of the big, empty windows you felt your pocket vibrate. Pulling out your phone you eyed the screen, the name, **“Buckaroo”** flashing across with the message _Hey, you around? Tony said you ducked out._

Bucky was used to his nickname, but you had decided you wanted one for yourself. Buckaroo had been a cute one and of course Clint’s first reason to call you out.

Sighing, you clicked off the screen and put the phone down on the large ledge, windows long since having been taken out along with the frame. Your form fit well, letting you look out at the city ahead of you, far enough out to get some perspective on the place. Literal and figurative.

Bucky could never like you that way, right? He was a tough man who had a close group that he rarely strayed from. You were a friend and he had that cold exterior. For valid reasons, right? But he had Natasha if he wanted, or even Wanda. Not to mention the slew of women who would have tossed themselves at him without a thought. Hell, they already had. You couldn’t blame them.

The phone buzzed again and lit up, the screen flashing, _We were thinking of having drinks upstairs. You in?_ You felt guilty as you let the screen go dim again and the words vanish. It wasn’t that you wanted to be the brooding type but there was just no denying that Bucky was out of your league. The idea of sitting across from a man who you adored and didn’t return the feeling hurt. Instead, you’d be sitting listening to the rainfall as the rest of them danced and drank back at the Tower.

Sam knew you came here. He was probably the only one who did. He’d been concerned about you at one point after you hadn’t answered your phone and had tracked it to where you were now. He understood it, though he had tried to reassure you that you were still wanted within the group. A jovial man by nature he hated seeing you melancholy. Of course, you knew that. It was just hard not being powered like the rest of them. You didn’t feel so super. It was the other thing Sam understood pretty well.

After that you’d disabled the GPS and Sam wiped your treks out here from the database. You liked having a hideout and it felt nice. A sanctuary.

Your phone had stopped going off, at least. Leaning your head against the cool concrete frame your eyes closed and you listened to the world going on around you. No main roads meant limited cars, and limited cars meant limited people. Mostly you were hearing the echoes of the building and the rain falling outside. Occasionally the wind would pick up, a soft spray of rain reminding you that you were alive, bringing with it a rush of cool air. It was oddly reassuring.

It came as more than a surprise, then, when you heard a man clearing his voice, “Y/N?” Bucky was standing near you, looking cleaned up and tidy in his black t-shirt and jeans, but nervous.

The noise startled you and you nearly fell out the window, “Bucky! Oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack!” Your hand went to your chest, eyes wide as you steadied yourself, watching the concerned Winter Soldier walk over.

His eyes were focused, “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… you looked kind of in thought…” His voice trailed, looking around and realizing he probably should explain why he was there, “I got worried when you didn’t answer your phone. Sort of guilted Sam into telling me where you were.” He casually made his way to the window and propped himself on the other side of the sturdy concrete, “I can see why you like it here. It’s quiet.”

“It was,” you quipped, looking back out at the rain before shaking your head, “I’m sorry, that was mean. I- I wasn’t expecting you.” Immediately you felt like an idiot. It was like being a teenager all over again, saying stupid things while the man you cared for sat near you. You’d wanted so badly to reach out and touch him. Much of that had stopped when you realized your feelings. More than anything you wanted to protect yourself and Bucky. All those passing hugs and flirtatious shoves had vanished when you understood what they really were.

It was quiet for a moment as Bucky considered his next words, “How long have you been coming out here?” His own eyes had fallen back out to the city and he understood why someone would choose to be here over a luxurious building. Those places felt cramped whereas this felt open and free.

“Dunno. Few months now? Sort of felt like home here after I cleaned up the bottles and graffiti,” you turned slightly, eyeing the place that had become your Sanctum Sanctorum (Strange had given you so much shit when he heard you use that).

Bucky seemed surprised, however, as he eyed you, “You’ve spent that much time here? Wait, so those times Nat bugged you to come out-?”

You blushed and looked down, “Yeah, I was here. I just… I feel like I don’t always fit in, Buckaroo. You guys have known each other way longer, and I feel like I get in the way. Not always, but sometimes. So I come here so no one can get hurt.” It felt like a childish admission, and it wasn’t 100% truthful. The other part was that you were nervous to be around the man you were in love with. Admittedly in love with.

A pained look crossed Bucky’s features and he scooted closer, reaching out with his metal hand to take your hand, “You really think you’re alone with that feeling?” The touch had surprised you, mostly because you knew how self conscious he was about touch with the metal arm, “When I first started doing this legitimately, alongside Steve, I had that same feeling every day,” he was watching you as he spoke, concerned, “It took me a while to come to terms with it. Steve made me talk to some… quack. But it did some good. She told me it’s called Imposter Syndrome.”

This man was opening up more than you ever thought possible, your heart pounding as you listened, almost pained at the idea of Bucky feeling so outside, “She said… it’s related to anxiety. But that it’s not true. And it’s not. I know I love having you around, Y/N,” a smile latched onto Bucky’s face and it was the contagious one you couldn’t ignore.

A matching smile crept onto your lips as you shook your head, “You’re too good to me, Bucky. What’d I do to deserve a friend like you?” The question dripped with ache from the idea of calling him a friend. You wouldn’t do him the pain of commanding anything more.

Bucky inched closer, careful not to bump you out the two-story high window as he sidled up next to you. His metal arm snaked around your waist, pulling you against him, “I ask myself that about you a lot, you know,” his lips pressed against your head and you felt suddenly at home, resting against his chest, smelling his clean scent that so screamed of Bucky, “Whenever we’re on a mission and you’re back here, I always remind myself that you’re home waiting.”

Your eyes closed as you took it all in, still not understanding what was happening. But he was intoxicating and the moment had taken hold of you, “I-I love you, James. I’m sorry I haven’t been around. It’s just so hard,” your arms had wrapped around his torso as best you could manage given the circumstances and he held you tight just the same.

“You know when I first realized I loved you?” He spoke softly against your ear, speaking softly, “I realized it when I first saw you smile. Steve introduced you, made some stupid joke, and you smiled. It was just… it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I was done,” he chuckled slightly at himself, a rumble heard in his chest.

You muttered against him warmly, “So you’re saying I should feel stupid for hiding out here from you as long as I have?”

Bucky laughed louder, kissing your head and pulling away just enough to cup your face with his hand, “I’m saying I’m always going to love you. And you’re always part of that ridiculous group we call a family. You’re an Avenger.” His words were soothing in a way you hadn’t expected and the sincere smile that he flashed was more than you could take.

As he leaned in, gently, your eyes closed as he pressed his lips against yours. The man beyond your reach had truly been with you the entire time. His heart had followed and yours had found his own. The kiss was more gentle than you had expected and it was perfect. Even as he pulled away and stroked your cheek gently, nuzzling his scruff playfully against you, eliciting a giggle, “Ah, there’s my girl. I’ve missed that laugh.”

You smiled up at him, warm suddenly and feeling so finally like you belonged, “It’s not going anywhere, Buckaroo. Not as long as I can help it.”


	4. No More Nightmares (Bucky x Reader)

The first thing that woke you was the screaming. It was horrible. You thought for a moment someone had broken into Avengers Tower, jumping out of your bed in only your oversized t-shirt and shorts. A quick sprint down the hall and you began to realize it was something else. Jogging more than running, you followed the yells to the end of the hall where Bucky’s room was. You and Barnes had been tasked to keep an eye on the place while the rest went out to do some research abroad.

Concerned, though with a general idea as to what waited, you opened the door and peered inside. It was dark but you could see Bucky’s form thrashing wildly on the bed. Nightmares were his norm and while he’d been prescribed a slew of medications to help with the PTSD his metabolism sometimes wore them off.

Worried more than anything you shut the door behind yourself and hurried over. He knew you well enough, having been through so much with you, but you had never had to calm him through this. He kept his pain to himself so often it felt like he’d burst forward.

“Hey… Bucky. Buckaroo, shh…” You cooed softly, kneeling by his bed and grasping at his non-metal hand sharply. It was a risk you knew, but one you wanted to take. His thrashing calmed but his yells continued. Pressing your other hand against his cheek you leaned in, “C’Mon, Bucky. It’s me. Y/N. Wake up, Buck.” It was a soothing voice you didn’t know you had inside you.

Soon enough his yells stopped, your hand wiping away a mix of sweat and tears as his eyes blinked open. He was surprised to see you though not surprised enough to jump away. Sitting on the edge of his bed you kept a hold of his hand, “Hey, James. You had me worried.” Your eyes were wide and the sleep you had so craved, so missed, suddenly seemed unimportant. Here was a man who had been through Hell, and you’d be damned if you let him be alone.

He reached up with a metal arm, closing his eyes as he sunk into the bed, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I was yelling again, wasn’t I? Was it bad?” His eyes opened again and he looked at you, a man who could read your best poker face.

You shrugged, “Nothing I haven’t seen before, darlin’. Meds wore off. You won’t get any sleep if you keep up like this.” You let go of his hand and reached up to push back his hair gently.

“I know,” he sighed, clearly just as upset. But more than that he was upset at the idea of having disturbed you. A woman he saw as so important and who needed to be kept away from his pain. It was hard enough letting anyone in.

A soft smile caressed your sleep-deprived features, “I’ve got an idea, Bucky. Move over a second.” You motioned him to scoot in the bed. You’d been around the man enough to know what his weak points were, and the one thing he would never admit but always fell victim to was his choice to always protect others over himself. Always.

You watched him move, slightly confused and you scooted next to him, sitting up more than laying down, but still close, “I’ll keep an eye on you to help you sleep, OK? Next time you have a nightmare, I’ll be here. No arguing. If you yell I’ll be down here again anyway. Might as well just see the night.” He looked up at you, nervous, clearly upset about the idea of putting you out.

He winced, “What if I start swinging? I don’t want to hurt you.”

Stroking his hair, you smiled, “You won’t.”

After that it was only minutes before Bucky drifted off to sleep. You stroked his hair gently, humming softly as you watched him fall deeper and deeper asleep. Your own eyes were growing tired despite the discomfort of the position. But you weren’t going to move and you weren’t going to leave him. Soon enough, you were both asleep, and both of you slept through the night.

____

The next few days were spent with an odd sort of closeness. Bucky woke before you, as he always did, making breakfast with a smile on your face. The first night you had fallen asleep next to him had been on accident. You’d been binge watching House Hunters, both of you falling asleep together. But his sleep was sound when he slept by you. It was restful. You stirred only once the first night when you heard him mumbling. Instinctively you kissed his head, the mumbling soon stopping and you both falling back asleep.

After that, it seemed normal. You had told him it made sense to share the space in case he had another nightmare and Bucky hadn’t argued even a lick. He had blushed, but he had told you it made sense. A week later and you were walking to his room out of habit.

When everyone returned you both neglected to share what had happened. He was a friend, right? You doubted he wanted anyone to know, and you sure didn’t want to make it awkward. Even after you had celebrated the team’s return through drinks and food, you had both parted ways to your own rooms.

It felt alien, however. Even once you’d changed, you found yourself sitting up in bed and staring out the window. Sleep tugged at your mind but so did the idea of Bucky being alone. And you, for that matter. He had become a feeling of safety and security all those nights. The final night together he had wrapped you in his arms mid-sleep and you had woken briefly to feel the warmth. It was good and it was right.

Now? Now you were feeling like a lovestruck girl. Probably because you were.

A sigh escaped your lips even before you saw the light break into the darkness of your room, glancing up as you saw Bucky enter, “Hey, Y/N… I don’t mean to bug you. I didn’t know if you were asleep.” He hovered at the doorway, form-fitting tank top and pajama pants hanging off of him. Socially acceptable, you were sure.

You shook your head, “I can’t. Feels weird.” You shrugged, watching as he walked over.

He stood by your bed, rubbing the back of his head nervously, “I don’t want to be weird, you know? But… I just…”

You let off a crooked smile, nodding, “I know. You wanna… sleep here tonight? I mean, you don’t have to. But I just thought, you know, for nightmares-”

“Yeah, yeah I’d like that.” He responded, rather quickly, smiling a little as he almost immediately made his way to lay down. You both stood, pulling the blankets back and getting under, appreciating the cold the time of year offered. You always kept your room as cool as it was outside for the most part. It was nice.

An indavertant shudder was let out as you adjusted to the warmth, feeling Bucky’s arms suddenly pulling you to his body, “You always keep your room this cold?” He glanced down at you, making sure it was OK.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his torso and feeling so at home, “This is coming from the Winter Soldier?” You smirked.

He laughed, quieting it a bit as he realized there were others, “Walked into that one, didn’t I?” He grinned down at you and you only nodded. It was a new feeling, to be held by him as you both readied yourself for sleep, but it was good. Bucky’s nightmares had subsided, and your own sleep had finally come to you more naturally. You had a strong suspicion that this whole sharing a bed thing wasn’t temporary. Not like this.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice, deep and soft, whispered down to you as you rested your head on his chest and listened to his beating heart.

You smiled against him, “Anything, Buckaroo.”

“Ever since you came in my room that night… I haven’t slept so well. Maybe not in my whole life. Since you’ve been next to me, those nightmares aren’t so bad anymore. And I’m not scared to fall asleep, because I know what I’m waking up to.” He held tighter to you, his deep voice whispering against you as he opened up more than he might have ever thought possible.

His heart was pounding, but so was yours. You could only smile, “I love you too, Buck.”

There were no more nightmares after that. And no more hiding. Bucky’s visits to your room had become the room you shared and before long neither of you were sleeping alone again. Bucky Barnes had fallen in love, and you had been there to catch him, chasing away his nightmares.


	5. Do I Dare? (Bucky x reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of one of my favorite poets, t. s. eliot’s “The Long Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” which I recommend if you haven't read.

_Do I dare_  
_Disturb the universe?_  
_In a minute there is time_  
_For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse._

It had taken the briefest of moments for your entire world to change and shatter. A simple choice, a simple decision, one that you could never have predicted the outcome to. But you had known that standing and doing nothing would have pained you more. In that moment where everyone around you had run desperately, you had stood and watched. You had watched everything fall apart in a matter of seconds and in those seconds you were defined.

Hydra. You had heard the name and seen the news. Of course, you understood what they meant and what they represented. A group of people intent on taking down the world as it stood now who would never stop. And who were you? Another citizen, civilian, individual living in the pulsating and breathing New York City. What obligation did you have towards the world? None, really. And yet you knew the Avengers were a team that had saved your life without your knowing. They had taken down Loki, Ultron, and a slew of other disasters and near-disasters you might never actually know about.

When a blast echoed into the small coffee shop you were inhabiting, your own form had been thrown down to the ground. Pain was your world for the moment as you watched the man rise from the debris that had circled around you. And he was a man; he was more than a man. You recognized the face instantly of the Winter Soldier (Bucky Barnes, was it not?).

Instantly those around you rose and ran for empty spaces, but the fighting around you continued. Standing as best you could with your heart pounding in your chest and the blast still echoing and ringing you watched. Guns fired as he held his metal arm up to reflect the bullets and protect himself. Turning, you could hear fighting coming from outside the shop and recognized the yell of Captain America himself. And you knew deep inside you should have been running. Who were you? A citizen at best.

_Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,_  
_Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?_

Bucky was fighting, fists slamming as he appeared to eye the surroundings. You noticed many had fled, but still you stood as others ran past you. Of course, you ducked slightly behind a table nearby to avoid getting harmed. There was so much chaos it was hard to keep track of what was happening. All you could see was this man that the world had so quickly joined against not long again fighting against what appeared to be Hydra agents.

Your entire being shook and rattled as he threw punches and threw men off of him. Every piece of you told you that you should run and yet still you remained, your eyes focused on the fight. It was so surreal now that it was really happening, all those stories of the aftermath of battle and the rebuilding you had never been witness to.

And when one of the men came charging in, something snapped. You watched as an agent, armed to the teeth, came baring his weapon behind Bucky Barnes. Hardly thinking you raised the chair nearby, slamming it hard down on the man, watching him stumble as Bucky turned. Your eyes were wide with both concern and confusion, a bit of fear dancing there of course. His eyes, a mixture of grey and blue, were wide as well.

In that moment he was frozen. This woman, a woman he had never met before, had stepped in battle to save his life. A civilian at best, a normal citizen of New York City, had risked her life to potentially save his. And for what? Was Bucky worth it?

As the Hydra agent regained his balance Bucky realized he had been immobile, correcting this behavior by driving a fist into the agent, “Get out of here! You’re going to get yourself killed!” His voice rang with concern he didn’t realize existed for him to anyone beyond Steve.

_I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;_  
_I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,_  
_And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,_  
_And in short, I was afraid._

This was a moment to make or break, you thought. A moment that would define your life and this man’s as well. But he was important, wasn’t he? He was an Avenger. He, those fighting outside to save this city, had risked their lives daily. You owed him your own and so much more.

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you watched him continue to lay out punches and hits, redirecting gunfire and throwing men armed to the teeth out the hole in the wall. You were scared and there was no denying that. You had no training, no fighting experience beyond your siblings that picked on you growing up.

It didn’t stop you from charging forward, grabbing a gun from the collapsed body nearby and trying to shoot at the agents coming forward. It wasn’t unlike what you had played in video games, though the gun was powerful and shook you to your core. You had to do something. You had to help this man in whatever way possible. He would change the course of the world while you would potentially spend your life simply existing.

No. This was what it meant to live a life. Live it despite the fear. Despite the noise and chaos. Live it for this man who could do so much.

So when you got closer to him, trying your best to help, you noticed his back turned and another agent perched close enough to get a shot but far enough to be missed. It was an agent who would cause the death of James Buchanan Barnes, The Winter Soldier, the man who had only ever wanted to do good and make a difference.

There was no thinking as you shoved Bucky hard, your body connecting with his for the sharpest of moments. There was no thinking as the bullet flew through the air and connected with your body. Even as it penetrated your torso, saving Bucky from what would have been a life-ending shot, you knew you had lived a life full. You had saved a man who you could have known somehow. You were effectively changing the world by stepping in front of that bullet and taking it for him, “Bucky!” It was a name you knew and it fell from your lips, desperate and triumphant.

_To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,_  
_Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—_  
_If one, settling a pillow by her head,_  
_Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;_  
_That is not it, at all.”_

Your eyes blinked once. Twice. Three times. The world was a blur but was slowly returning to you. A soft beeping noise rang through and you began to register where you were. A hospital, sterile but secure, a private hospital, perhaps.

Warmth enveloped you from the drugs coursing through your system and you appreciated it. Memories of the fight slowly came back but you were confused as to why there was not the chaotic noise of a hospital you knew existed. But the warmth around your hands was solid. It was heavy and flesh. It was comforting without intending to be so. Glancing down you saw a man holding you hand gently with his head hanging. A man with a metal arm was holding to you.

“Bucky…” You whispered the name again as you tried to hold to it, watching as the man appeared to stir to life immediately. He was rising once more as you imagined you had. He was lifted from the brink of death just as you had been. A flatline, you would discover later, with Bucky clinging to your bleeding body. He had brought you to safety after ending the world of those around him. He had to. You were a woman who had changed his world. And for what?

He stood, rising fully and standing by you, looking down with features softened by compassion and care for a woman whose name he did not even know, “Why did you do that? Why’d you save me? You could have been killed.”

A warm smile danced over your lips as you squeezed his hand harder, “Because you’re Bucky. Because you’re a man who will change the world more than I ever can. Because you deserve it.” Reaching up gently with your other hand you cupped his cheek, watching as his eyes brimmed with tears.

He wouldn’t leave your bedside after. He remained for the duration of your stay in the hospital, refusing to leave the private facility Tony Stark had provided. He stayed until you could walk and he walked with you. It was the beginning of a new world, and everyone knew it. A single choice. A single moment. A single wink in time had created something new and saved something precious.

It had saved a soul. It had fallen a man into love.

_I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach._  
_I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each._

_I do not think that they will sing to me._


	6. Control (Bucky x power!Reader)

It had been three months since the Avengers had taken you on and in that time your world had flipped upside down in a multitude of ways. Having abilities, natural abilities, was something almost unheard of to the group. You had been found entirely on accident and yet it had been the best of accidents. A fight with Hydra had broken out in downtown Manhattan, the Avengers on site within moments, it felt. And there you were, aware of what you could do, but always in bursts. Having powers was such a strange kind of burden.

Something had changed, though, when you watched the man with dark hair and a metal arm knocked to the ground. You had felt an inexplicable draw to him but you knew who it was: Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. A gun was aimed at his torso and was likely to hit him, and who knew what damage that would cause?

Reaching out with your hand you screamed, “Get down!” He had only a moment, but it was all he needed as he watched a blast of fire engulf the agent sent to kill him. You had spent the next few minutes saving those few civilians left over, those who couldn’t get away, your gift of fire saving those around you.

After that Steve had convinced you to join without hesitation. You had saved his best friend after all. And Bucky had become quite attached to you. You had dismissed it as Nightingale Syndrome. When it didn’t fade, however, you understood it was something more. And you couldn’t deny it yourself. He was handsome beyond measure, especially with that perpetual five o’clock shadow painting his face. His muscular frame was perfect and you understood he was indeed a Super Soldier. He was something else.

“Ok, now just let off some punches at the bag, OK?” Cut to present-day, Bucky had been trying to teach you to fight. It became clear quickly your abilities were hit-or-miss. In the field, protecting your friends, you could use it. But training in the facility had been another matter. Even when it was just you on the field you’d been forced to use hand-to-hand combat, your powers unreachable. A switch you couldn’t flip.

A look of frustration was cemented on your own features, “I’m hitting it as hard as I can!” It felt like the bag wasn’t even moving as your leg connected to it hard, Bucky holding it lightly to steady it.

He frowned somewhat, “Twist your hips into it a bit more, I know you’ve got this,” he was rooting for you as hard as he could, watching as you followed his suggestion. More than anything you were embarrassed that this man, this warrior to end warriors, was watching a woman who could barely even kick a punching bag.

Your powers were so fickle. That control over fire that had saved Bucky’s life and countless others worked at such random times or so it felt. Working to train physically was done for your safety because of the lack of control. Wanda had tried to work with you to some degree but it was still very hit-or-miss. Now you were more concerned that you’d lose control out of pure frustration.

Letting out a final kick, your leg sore from slamming into the bag, you yelled, “Fuck it! I don’t have it, Bucky! I can’t even move this thing! I hit about as hard as a gnat!” You shoved the bag, causing Bucky to catch it harder, stepping away from him as you wiped the perspiration off of your forehead. The last thing you wanted was for Bucky to see you cry but it felt like that’s the direction it was going.

He moved around the bag to where you were and gently placed a hand on your lower back, “Hey, doll. It takes practice. You’ve only been at this a couple months now. You’ve got this, hot stuff.” He smirked at you, his sweet nickname that you always flushed red when he called you. He had ducked his head somewhat to meet your eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes staring deeply into yours.

You frowned a little, looking away, “How do I keep up with Avengers, then? I can barely control my own powers,” you were close to tears. So close.

His calloused hand reached up, gently tilting your chin upwards to meet his eyes, “First of all, you are an Avenger so quit it. Second of all, you saved my life, doll. Takes more than just powers to do that. Takes strength,” his hand cupped your face and his thumb gently brushed over your cheek.

Closing your eyes you felt his warmth, “Bucky…”

It was an instant before his lips pressed gently against your own, a kiss so soft you might never guess it was from a man with so much strength inside. That draw you had felt towards him, that intense desire, felt so much stronger now as he kissed you, closer to the man that kept everyone far away. Weren’t you the same, though?

After that moment the two of you were inseparable and your training increased. It was a slow build but with your significant other pushing you forward (with the occasional rewards) there was that much more of a draw. Your intensity grew but you remained frustrated at the lack of control of your abilities. Still they appeared to elude you and still Wanda tried. But she couldn’t break down that wall you had up regardless of what she said.

Another month passed before the inevitable came up; one of the Avengers more powerful villains came back into play. Cap wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but Red Skull had come back and he had rounded up Hydra in the city. Your group was there before long and fighting was in full force. There was Pietro, zipping through and rushing people to safety. Iron Man, blasting away at the baddies and deflecting bullets. Even Bucky, using himself as if a battering ram, knocking people down without hesitation.

You ran forth with the rest of them, finding your fire was available to you this time. Maybe it was fear for those around you but the flames rushed forth, colliding with weapons aimed at those on your team. You were avoiding the civilians of course and focusing on Hydra but you had lost track of where the fighting was centralized. Your reflexes and reactions weren’t like the rest of them and you hadn’t been doing this forever. Instead of keeping an eye out for Red Skull you had assumed he’d be focused on Captain America. And why not? That was who he wanted. That was who Bucky was working with.

The slam of sudden wrenching pain that shattered your vision was indescribable, having been turning to find the rest of the gunfire when a fist rocked against your temple. Your body felt somewhat like a ragdoll as you tumbled backwards, hitting the ground hard as you tried to refocus yourself to what had done such a thing.

In your vision you spotted the man dressed in a black jacket with red skin, his skull clearly visible. How aptly named, he was. Red Skull stood before you in all his terrifying glory, fists clenched as he stared down, “The Avengers newest recruit, yes? Easiest target for my own experiments. The Avengers don’t understand what they have with you,” his eyes narrowed and he grinned. Widely.

A shudder of fear ran through your body as you scrambled back, holding up your hand and desperately trying to urge forth the fire that was just doing damage moments ago. Instead, your hand shook as you kept it aimed at him, watching as he walked forward, “Get back! I’ll kill you!”

An empty threat, and a threat he knew you couldn’t back up right now. No, that fire was gone suddenly and you were at this man’s mercy, “Oh, I read about this in detail. You know Tony Stark takes such detailed notes of your progress. And the videos? I know what you’re capable of, and I know your weakness,” he snarled.

Reaching down he grabbed you, lifting you up by your shirt so carefully crafted to be durable and threw you hard forward. Your body flung once more, slamming hard into the brick building twenty feet behind you. Pain was becoming a much known friend at this point and you yelped as you hit the brick. Where were the rest of them? Gunfire was still audible in the distance but they were occupied elsewhere.

As if hearing your thoughts he smiled as he walked forward, “Hydra is everywhere, Y/N, and your friends are nowhere to be found, it appears,” he got close and you tried to attack as best you could, kicking your leg out to his own.

But as your foot connecting with his thigh, a pressure point Bucky had taught you, he only laughed, “I am so much more powerful than the Winter Soldier, my dear. You believe a kick will be my downfall?” Laughter bellowed from him as he picked you up once more, this time pressing your back against the building, “You insult me. And you insult yourself. Do you even know why you can’t control those precious abilities? Those abilities I will make mine.”

Your eyes widened, “You don’t know a thing about me! Let me go!” You pushed hard at his chest despite the pain that continued to throb inside your battered form.

He didn’t budge an inch, getting closer, “I know so much more about you than you realize,” his face was close and you could feel the power radiating from him, an evil that was almost palpable.

That’s when you heard it, “Let her go!” Bucky’s voice rang out hard through the air, his footsteps hitting the pavement with purpose as he ran to you, “Y/N!”

It was a swift movement as Red Skull pulled out a pistol and aimed it at your head, hand around your throat as he allowed you just enough air to remain conscious, “Not a single step more, Barnes, or I remove this woman from your life. She will be leaving with me one way or another. Alive or dead, it’s your choice,” he growled out the words.

You blinked a few times, gripping hard at the hand at your neck, trying to get words out. Bucky was so close and you felt so terribly like a failure. Even now you couldn’t get control of the one thing that could save you. You were at the mercy of a man who clearly wanted you for his own devices, “You see, I do know about you, Y/N. I know what your precious Bucky does not.”

“What are you talking about?” You managed the words, choked and gasping as you squirmed, watching him.

He grinned, “Does he even know? Do any of them? Do they know why you can’t use that ability of yours? Do they know the real reason? You do, whether you admit it to yourself or not,” his words were menacing and your stomach began to sink. How could he possibly know? What was he even talking about?

He leaned in closer, speaking loud enough for Bucky to hear as he watched helplessly, panicked and eyes wide, “Do they even realize why you can use that ability to save lives but not your own? Do they know you don’t believe yourself worthy enough to be saved? Does your precious Bucky know that?”

And he was right. Your heart sank and tears were beginning to well up in your eyes. He had identified with ease the reason you had never been able to control that thing that made you special. He had understood in a moment without even needing to guess what it was. You could save lives, of course, and when given purpose you could use your powers. But when it came to you? Did you believe you deserved to be saved?

_“I knew I loved you the moment that fire died down and you stood in its place, Y/N. I knew when I saw you that you were the woman I could be with. You’re so strong, so powerful, so full of so much force. I wish you could see what I do. How you light up a room with your smile or how heads turn when you walk by. I wish you could hear what I hear, how bright you are and how charming you are without meaning to be. Every part of you, every piece of what makes you special is what I love. You make this world something more. You make me better. You make the world better.”_

You heard Bucky’s voice in your head and understood immediately what was happening. Wanda was standing with her hand on his bicep and she was focused on you. Bucky was speaking to you. He was admitting the thing he had so wanted to tell you for weeks now, for months even, and he was desperate to keep you. He couldn’t lose you. At once you felt those emotions so raw and powerful that he had for you as Wanda sent them forth. You felt that passion that love, that intense brilliant draw. You could feel his complete adoration and for a moment you saw yourself from the outside.

Closing your eyes you focused, reopening them with a burning behind them now, “No. I deserve to be saved. And I can save myself,” your eyes narrowed and you gripped to his arm hard, watching as the pistol began to melt and disintegrate in his hands.

Fire began to wrap around his arm around your neck and he let go, jumping back, “No! This cannot be! You can’t control this!” He was desperate as your hand wouldn’t let go of him, kneeling down and focusing the flames on him. He wouldn’t be killed, no, not with that serum in him, but he would be devastated. He would be down long enough to be taken back into custody. And you ensured he felt the pain of the fire you focused on him, watching as it engulfed him, screaming.

By the time you were finished he lay surrounded by ash, alive but unconscious. Standing, not a scratch on your body and your clothing protected from heat, you walked to Bucky. Heat was dissipating from your form and he was smiling as you moved to him. His arms were open and as you fell into his embrace you understood you were worth so much more. You were worth saving, and you could save yourself. All you needed was a gentle reminder from the man you loved.

**The world was so much more with you in it.**


	7. First Date Jitters (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Your jaw was agape. You stared at the man before you as though he were an alien. Had he really just said that? Was he quite serious right now? A flush had crossed his features and it was obvious he felt suddenly on display, “What’s so bad about that?”

You shook your head, “Of all the things to do or watch when you came out of the ice, no one thought to recommend you even go to a movie theater?” You couldn’t quite grasp the concept that this man hadn’t actually sat down in a theater since the 40’s.

Steve shrugged slightly, “Tony’s let me use his home theater. Does that count?” He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

Shaking your head you cocked an eyebrow, “I don’t care what that man tells you, sitting in a theater, watching a movie opening night, is probably the best thing in the world. Surrounded by a ton of people all super excited to see what’s coming out? C’mon, you’ve got to. I’ve got tickets for Star Wars and I’m taking you with me. I know you watched all of ‘em, too. Tony made you.”

It had been a few months now you’d joined the team, and in that time you had managed to become a natural part of the group. While normally you had been happy to work on your own it had made sense to follow suit with the Avengers. Tony had become an inadvertent father figure (albeit one that fed you alcohol) and Wanda had become a sister you never had. The group had taken you in when you had nothing and you’d realized just how critical they were.

Steve, as much as you’d wanted to deny it, had always been the man you got the giggles around. You had avoided him at first. Of course Natasha had picked up on it and had teased you relentlessly in her own subtle ways. Never had the Star Spangled Soldier figured it out, however. Despite your own behaviors you thought were ‘so obvious’, he never said a word. Steve was stoic. He was hard to read at the best of times.

Now you had the perfect excuse to take him out. Two tickets, reserved seating, for an IMAX showing of Star Wars. You had purchased the tickets without the help of Stark and had insisted you liked the crowd. It was true, of course. You loved the idea of getting in line two hours early despite reserved seats and you loved the idea of wearing a shirt with “HAN SHOT FIRST” plastered on it.

More so now that Steve Rogers was joining you.

“All right, I’m just… I’m not great in crowds like that.” Steve looked suddenly nervous and you remembered why he didn’t like going out. A pang of guilt settled in your stomach as you remembered what it was like to be a veteran of sorts surrounded in a group. Anxiety and panic wasn’t uncommon as he wouldn’t be in combat. He’d be enjoying a night out.

So you smirked, “Don’t worry, you can wear that terrible disguise. A hoodie and sunglasses, right?” That was your own ongoing joke, that the crew opted to ‘blend in’ by wearing a hoodie, hat, and sunglasses. Like that was hiding.

But Steve’s smile disarmed you, “I think if we’re gonna go out, Y/N, we’ve gotta do it right. No hoodie and sunglasses for me.”

It was hard to ignore the heat building in your cheeks, though you did your best to hide it. Had he really just suggested this was… a date? Maybe you were making things up.

“Don’t dress too nice, Cap. We’re gonna be surrounded by a bunch of nerds.” You flashed a stupid sort of smile, immediately chastising yourself,  _Good job, Y/N. That’s exactly what Steve needs to hear._ As much as you tried, it was hard to escape that awkward side of yourself that came out around a man like Steve. It was hard to play it cool. Whatever that meant.

The rest of the week almost dragged by and you had done your best to avoid Steve. Mostly because you were certain you’d say something exceptionally stupid this time and ruin it. Natasha had stopped you on the Thursday night you were slated to go out, however, with a sly smile on her face, “Heard Steve’s got a hot date tonight. Wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

The crimson that burned over your cheeks was had to hide this time, “What? No way. I don’t follow his social calendar.” You had tried to duck out of the room almost the moment she asked, having snagged you in the kitchen of the Avengers tower.

But she smirked still, “Whoever it’s with it’s got him pretty excited. Wouldn’t shut up about it in training. Must be special.” You were glad you had turned at this point, unbelieving what you were hearing. Captain America? The man who made you turn into a babbling pile of stupid was looking forward? And it was a date?

“I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you later, Nat.” You held up your hand as you walked out in an awkward sort of wave, aware the blush was on the back of your neck now. Mostly you were nervous about the idea of getting dressed up. Your plan was to still wear your nerd shirt, but was there makeup involved now? Doing your hair? Was Steve dressing up?

_Jesus Christ, I’m sixteen all over again and this is the worst,_ you thought awkwardly to yourself as you entered the bedroom assigned to you. It was all so very much your personality and reflected your independent nature. It was frustrating then when a man like Steve Rogers could waltz into your world and turn it upside down. Then again, most of your time Avenging had been fairly focused on your entire life changing. Not that it was a bad thing. It was just… different.

Your evening was spent second-guessing almost everything you were grabbing to put on, even your messenger bag. Hair tie, not a hair tie, shirt hanging off your shoulder or straight, jeans or leggings, boots or converse… but you remembered yourself in that moment. You knew Steve would see right through any discomfort and it just wasn’t worth it. So in the end you went with what made you happy. Jeans and the ridiculously nerdy t-shirt with your hair done and makeup simple.

Stepping out of your room, you spotted Steve in the living room area pacing. He hadn’t noticed you yet and appeared to be talking to himself. He was gesturing with his hands, smiling a bit and laughing, and as you stepped closer, still not in his view, you realized he was practicing talking to you. A smile danced over your features as you realized this man was just as nervous as you were. Even more adorable was the fact that he was clearly better dressed than you. Khakis, a button-down white shirt, polished shoes, and his hair gelled just right. This man, this  _super_ human, was nervous about you taking him to the movies.

Clearing your throat ever so softly, Steve turned suddenly almost jumping, “Oh, Y/N! I didn’t see you.” A goofy smile you didn’t realize the man was capable of was flashed and you couldn’t help but smile harder. He appeared to eye you, however, looking suddenly concerned, “Am I too dressed up? I knew this was too much. I can change.”

You strolled over to him with a smile, shaking your head, “You look good, Cap.” His own nervousness had set you oddly at ease, in turn relaxing Steve. When Steve extended his arm for you to take (how very gentlemanly), you slipped your own arm through with a smile.

His own upbringing and time period were clear as he opened doors and hailed the taxi for you both. It was hard not to notice the smile on his face though you hadn’t noticed the notebook tucked in his hand. Certainly finding Steve sketching wasn’t uncommon but why he had it on the date you were unsure about, “Never leave home without it?” You motioned to the leather bound book.

Looking down at it Steve nodded, “Well, you did say that we’d be in line for a while, so I wanted to be prepared. I thought it might be nice to show you some drawings. If you want to see them, of course.” He tossed you a crooked smile that about melted your heart. Who knew he had this side to him? Always a man of combat, certain he would live a life of solitude, this was always what he had craved but could never put into words.

The line was long by the time you arrived to the theater downtown. Crowds of folks had lined the street all dressed in attires that matched the movie choice. And as you had predicted most were too focused on the idea of seeing the next Star Wars to notice Captain friggen America standing in line with them. The crowd pulsed with life as you strolled in, less concerned since you had your seat assignments already, “It’s like a living entity, isn’t it?” Your eyes were wide as you watched the world around you, fascinated at it all.

Steve’s blue eyes were wide as he looked around, nodding in disbelief, “You can say that again. I can see why you like this so much.” He grinned as he watched a faux lightsaber battle, finding himself oddly content with the noise and chaos. It was controlled and for once there were no eyes on Steve. He was a face in the crowd.

“You really don’t mind?” Your eyes were locked onto the man before you, a piece of you melting as he looked down.

“Honestly? Not really. I thought it’d be too much but…” He shook his head, looking down a bit with a soft flush of crimson on his cheeks.

Grinning, you elbowed his ribs playfully, “But what, Cap?”

When he looked back up, his eyes on yours, those big blue eyes you hadn’t realized you could get so lost in, he smiled, “Being here with you makes it easier, Y/N. I like spending time with you. I was worried for a while that saying it might scare you off, but Nat told me to just be out with it.” Anxiously he reached up and rubbed the back of his head.

Biting your bottom lip you smiled, “Can I see the drawings now?”

Of course, the world was going on around you two, but in this moment it was only you and Steve. The controlled chaos of the crowd was nothing but white noise. You took the notebook as Steve handed it and began to flip through. He was nervous as he watched you, knowing that handing you the book would be admitting how truly infatuated he was.

Looking through the pages was an interesting experience. There were sketches of the tower itself and a few items around. Notes littered the sides of the pages, such as  _“Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”_ with a note  _(Tony)_  next to it. More sketches of different items and animals or machines were scattered about. More items,  _“Memes?????”_  and _“Learn emoticons”_  had made you smile as well. He was a man who wanted to catch up with the world and did so slowly but surely.

Turning the page again you paused, looking down to see the full profile of your face. It was a detailed profile, you staring out the window of what looked like the kitchen. Contours and shading showed focus and concentration and there was an obvious painstaking longing that came from looking at the picture. How long had he felt this way?

“Since the day I met you.” He spoke as if reading your thoughts and your eyes moved back to his own.

Closing the book you watched as Steve leaned in, gently brushing back hair from your face. Suddenly you were in a movie where none of this felt real. A woman so worried that Captain America might tease her for being a nerd found herself able to smell his cologne… his shampoo… the fabric softener he insisted on using, “Can I kiss you?”

His words were gentle and so terribly soft, making you worried the world itself might shatter. Instead of speaking you nodded, closing your eyes as his lips made contact with yours. If fireworks could have gone off, you imagine they might. All at once you were sixteen again and all at once you realized how much you had fallen for this man. His arms wrapped around you, your own around his strong form, ignoring any of the looks you might have gotten.

When he finally did pull away there was a matching smile on each of you though it was you who spoke first, “You know, I’m still gonna make you sit through the movie. You can’t distract me that easy, Cap.”

He chuckled, leaning down and gently nuzzling against your cheek, “I wouldn’t dream of it. I plan on making sure my gal gets the best night out possible.”

Captain America indeed.


	8. White Picket Fence (Frank Castle x Reader)

“How long has it been?” You glanced over the coffee cup at the man across the table. He was staring out the window at a family, out late and headed home, a sort of longing in his eyes you recognized.

He didn’t even hesitate. Nor did he turn to look at you.

“Too long.” He took a sip of his own coffee, savoring the stale flavor of bland coffee, just enough caffeine to keep him awake. He had seen better days. Then again, so had you.

“You thought about going on a date again?” You inquired, holding the off-white ceramic mug defensively in front of your face. It was good you did, the man turning immediately towards you, looking at you like you were insane. You probably were.

“How the hell did you get from A to B there, Y/N?” He raised an eyebrow. Defensive, though not angry, he was mostly confused how you had gotten from one to the other.

You shrugged, “You live in this world, Frank. This weird world where you thrive on revenge and punishment. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m cool with it or else I wouldn’t be out here with you. But you ever think about at least going on a date?” You had cocked an eyebrow at him, certain enough to put the mug down.

The waitress came over, flashing a smile at the both of you as she poured you each another cup. Part of you wondered if she recognized Frank, but you knew even if she did she wouldn’t say anything. Hell’s Kitchen was kept safe in part due to men like Frank. Men like The Punisher.

“So what, I go on OKCupid and put up a profile? What d’you think the headline should read? Murderous Vigilante Seeks Partner In Crime?” He picked up the freshly filled mug, not bothering to add cream or sugar. He didn’t want any.

“Hey, that’s not bad. Might get a couple of hits that way.” You smirked and he rolled his eyes. This was a constant sort of back-and-forth between the two of you. A friend he still trusted, one of the only ones, you met with the man on occasion to make sure he was still eating, still breathing, and still maintaining some semblance of care. While he refused Daredevil’s own nursing help, he had always accepted yours. A friend of the family for years, you had never steered him wrong.

“You want nutjobs? Because that’s how you get nutjobs.” His grizzled voice hid the humor as best he could, but a smirk tugged at his unshaven face.

“He makes a pop culture reference! Color me shocked, Castle.” You leaned back, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“You’re the one who gave me that Netflix account, right? Archer’s a pretty good show. I don’t get most of it, but it’s funny.” He grinned fully at you, and you smiled inwardly, proud of yourself for getting a smile out of that man. Lord knew it was almost impossible to do.

“Stop changing the subject, Frank. I get that you dig this whole ‘being a martyr’ thing. I get that there’s this whole crew of you guys doing it out here. And don’t get me wrong, I like helping you idiots out, but part of that is me pointing out the obvious.” You reached across the table, poking Frank in his unfairly sculpted muscular torso.

He stared at you for a moment, watching as you lifted your own newly freshened coffee and winced at the bitter taste. It seemed pointless to try and sweeten something meant to be bitter. You needed to stay awake anyway. Men like Frank didn’t exactly sleep which meant that you didn’t exactly sleep.

Helping Frank had seemed second nature. You were one of those in-the-know around the area and frequently got information of the things going on around you in the city. What the Avengers were too busy to deal with, Frank more than took care of. But that meant relying on you in a big way and it never occurred to you why he had.

His eyes looked down to the liquid before him, steaming still, “Lady I got my eye on, if we’re being honest. Don’t think she’d dig a guy like me though. I’m damaged goods.” A crooked smile fell on his gruff features, making him look almost sad. It tugged at your chest in a way you hadn’t expected.

So you shook your head, “We’re all damaged, Frank. But we find people who help us keep the pieces together. Find your duct tape, so to speak.” It was a silly metaphor but he got it. You were always a big fan of duct tape. Solved everything, right? Even that night when he needed a makeshift scope on his rifle, you had come through with duct tape. He looked like an idiot but he had taken out an entire gang of drug dealers. Thanks in part to you.

“Nah, she deserves better. A normal life, white picket fence. Shit like that, you know? What do I got?” He was being self deprecating in a way you didn’t quite appreciate.

Narrowing your eyes you grumbled, “You’ve got a twelve pack, first of all. That body is pretty nice on its own,” A devilish smile played on your lips and he laughed nervously as you continued, “But seriously, white picket fence? No one gets that. No one really wants that. It’s overrated anyway.” You smiled weakly. He knew your history, for sure. Not a broken home per se, but you lived paycheck to paycheck. Your life was never going to exist outside of the home you’d built here, and you were OK with that. More, now that men like Frank protected you.

“This girl though… this woman? She’s somethin’ else. I don’t think she realizes how tough she is. How strong she is. You think what I do is hard, this woman could set me straight in no time flat.” He was leaning back, smiling a bit now as he took a long drink of the coffee that had become a bit cold. It was bitter, just the way he liked it. It reminded him that he was alive and that one could never become too comfortable.

Your face contorted slightly, though only because he had never discussed this woman before. His stories typically included his own fights, his run-ins with Daredevil, and sometimes some scrappy others (Luke? Maybe that was one.) This was the first time you were hearing about a woman, and she sounded so perfect for him.

“If she’s as tough as you say she is, then go for it. Sounds like she’s a lady who can protect herself.” A soft smile fell over your lips as you reached out and held his hands gripped around the coffee mug protectively and instinctively, “Listen, Frank. You’ve got to let someone in. You can’t live thinking everyone might get hurt, because that’s no way to live. Don’t isolate yourself because you think you’re protecting someone else. Let her make that choice.”

Words of wisdom that felt so brittle. They were words you had never abided by. Except with Frank. Frank you worried about and fretted over. He was the man you made dinner for and brought him information. He had kept you up at night; not because you might get hurt but because maybe this would be the night Daredevil knocked on your door to tell you the news.

Slowly he removed his hand, feeling his rough fingertips tracing up your arm and slowly towards your face, cupping it. Your heart was racing, not ready for what was happening but also having been hoping for this moment for a long time. His voice was lower as he smiled, “What if she tells me no, hm? Woman like her can do so much better than me.” His thumb stroked gently against your cheek and suddenly you felt at home.

There was never a white picket fence in your future, but that was because you didn’t want it. What you wanted as a man you felt at home with, and that’s what Frank was, “I’m going out on a limb here and guessing you mean me.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, that crooked smile hanging on his worn features, “Guess you should be workin’ for that Jessica Jones girl, Detective.” He winked.

Your face flushed and you nodded, “I can’t imagine a life without you, Frank. I’m in deep, and I fell for you long ago. I’m tough, remember? I can protect myself.” You smiled nervously, trying to be charming but stumbling with it.

He smiled warmly, “No other woman I’d want by my side through this, you know that? Whenever I fight, I always think of your face. Reminds me why I do what I do. Why I try and save this city.” Your eyes closed as you fell into his words, letting out a soft breath as he kept your cheek in his hand, cradling you.

**“My personal defender.” Your eyes were still closed when you felt him lean in, a surprisingly soft kiss placed upon your lips. He tasted like stale coffee and his own special flavor. His scruff tickled and you could only smile. Opening your eyes, you looked at him as he pulled away, “Count me in for the long haul, Frank.”**


	9. Love/Hate (Tony Stark x Reader)

“I said I wasn’t in the mood for Italian. Is there a reason you keep insisting on it?” Your voice was thick with irritation as you glared at Tony Stark from across the table.

His own eyes rolled dramatically as he leaned back, “Because there’s no way anyone ‘hates’ Italian. You’re just pissed off that I’m not in the mood for sushi,” he spoke with more of a bored tone, but you knew he was just trying to goad you into getting angry. Which, unfortunately, was working.

Your face flushed with ire as you leaned over, “That’s because you always say that when we order out! It’s literally my favorite thing and you just ‘happen’ to never be in the mood! Even when it was my week to pick!” You threw your hands up, truly angry now.

Clint stood from the table, a bored look on his face, “I’m gonna make a sandwich. This could take a while. Anyone want anything?” He glanced at Natasha who looked like she was about to punch either of you and Scott whose head was down on the table and potentially asleep. Steve was reading a book and clearly ignoring everything going on while Bucky stared at both of you, boring a hole deep into your skulls, Clint was sure.

When no one responded he simply threw his hands up, “Sandwich it is.”

Once more it was time for the group of you to order takeout. Often time people took turns, but the last time it was yours Tony had thrown such a fit about sushi you had decided to return the favor. You had politely (albeit begrudgingly) changed your order, though it appeared Tony wasn’t going to.

Since joining the Avengers things had been rocky between you and Tony to say the least. Oil and water, Maria had called it, and she wasn’t wrong. Tony often made little quips and remarks that drove you up a wall and your own stubborn nature had made him want to drink even more than usual. Fury had insisted you were an asset to the team and Rogers had agreed wholeheartedly. He had seen you in action, powers and all, and it just made sense.

For the most part you got along with the team swimmingly. Scott Lang had taught you a few secrets and tricks about breaking into places and after Clint had pranked you Scott had worked to help you return the favor. You and Nat had shared secrets and confided in one another while Steve and Bucky helped to train you in combat. Even Thor was your drinking buddy given how upbeat and positive he was and Banner did some teaching when you weren’t busy training. Everyone worked well.

Except for you and Tony.

Going out for dinner as a group was a chore since he had adored the attention that was brought your way. While Sam was pretty unknown to the public, Steve and Bucky kept their hats on and heads down. Tony, however, always made a deal of things. You’d roll your eyes and get irate.

Fighting as a team was arguably even worse. He’d try and head the team despite Captain America being at the forefront. When he attempted to boss you around (and with your role to always just ‘keep watch’) you’d give him attitude and step forward to fight regardless. Those powers you had weren’t an accident and it irritated you that Tony acted like they were. Suffice it to say things had frequently gotten tense.

“You know what, Tony? Order all the Italian you want. Order enough Italian to come out of your damn eyeballs and sprinkle it with hundred-dollar bills! I’m going out to get sushi.” You stood with a rather large amount of aggression, almost toppling over your chair. Instead you slammed it down and grabbed your zip-up hoodie from the back of the chair and tossed it on your person. Sure, it was unnecessary to add that bit about money, but you were angry. You were pissed. He constantly did this and you were tired of being cooped up in the same room as him.

As you were walking out you heard Tony shout back, “It’s those hundred-dollar bills that pay for your room, Y/N!” Always a sore spot to be sure, he was aware you hated living under his roof. They all did, but you didn’t like accepting what you felt were handouts. Even if it was compensation.

Your response was simply to keep walking and hold up your middle finger, flipping him the bird. You were so sick of him and knew that seeing his face might just result in punching it rather than a civil conversation. Throwing up the hood over your head you continued for the elevator, grateful that it was programmed to work strictly for this floor. It made it easier to take it down.

“Maybe I should make the elevator stop on every floor.” Tony muttered as he stared down at his clear tablet, considering it as he brought up the security camera on said elevator. You were still giving him the middle finger.

Bucky raised an eyebrow and Clint strolled back in with his turkey on rye, “She’ll actually murder you if you do. Let her go.” Clint spoke with his mouth full of food, Tony rolling his eyes and leaning back.

“Fine. But when she comes back the elevator might be broken completely.” He didn’t look at Clint but knew the words before they came out.

“Your funeral, Stark.”  
_____  
Going out to get sushi had proven to be more helpful than you had figured it might be. Many folks didn’t really know your face at this point which meant you could maneuver into restaurants without a problem. The fresh (relatively) city air felt relieving from the stuffy apartment. It was good to walk down the street and feel finally alone despite being surrounded. Even the half-full restaurant was a relief, sitting at the sushi bar and simply having some sake to yourself.

Honestly, Italian would have been just fine, but there was something inside of you that felt the need to be obstinate around Tony Stark. He constantly pushed and prodded you and you were tired of it. Others seemed to find those one-liners cute and endearing but you always just wanted to hit him. It never failed.

Popping the final avocado roll into your mouth contentedly you paid your bill and made your way out. Evening had begun to descend upon the city and it was again relieving. For now you had forgotten about your little tiff with Tony as you had begun to call them. There was all that pent up energy, but you felt like it was manageable now. Very little in your life had felt that way nowadays but being with the Avengers had given you such purpose. You’d become friends, honestly, with all of them except for Tony.

Strolling back to the building you made your way to the elevator, contemplating just walking around the city instead for a moment. You needed to get some training in, though, and this seemed as good a time as any. It would be helpful to get out that remaining bit of anger and frustration before heading to bed. Besides, it was Friday which meant Tony was either getting ready to go out or would already be parading around downtown.

Getting into the building you made your way to the floor with the training facilities on it. Part of you had expected to hear FRIDAY’s voice booming and informing you that the stairs were required. Instead, you were brought to the floor you’d chosen and stepped off without issue.

_Tony must be out already. I don’t hear anything._  You had considered to yourself, already removing the hoodie as you strolled down the hall and into the locker room. There were sounds of punching and grunts echoing in the main gym which you recognized as Bucky’s. He had worked to try and get out all that aggression still felt in his body and all that energy he couldn’t quite shake. Maybe he’d help you with some training.

You changed with ease once in the locker room and brought out your phone, queuing up a Spotify playlist as you indeed noticed Bucky. You were in much more flexible gym attire now as you strolled onto the mats. It was an open gym, the one with proper equipment housed next door. This one was designed for combat practice with an open floorplan and high ceilings. Mirrors lined the walls to give one an indication of what was going on to prepare for practice.

What you’d found especially nice was the sound system Tony had installed. It made lone workouts that much more fun. Even when sparring with Barnes or Rogers you’d blare “Turn Down For What” as loud as you could and wind up laughing hysterically when the old men got into it more than you.

The thought brought a smile to your lips and Bucky noticed you walk in, “Hey, Y/N.” He pushed back his hair, already having worked up a sweat as he tossed a smile your way, pausing his workout.

“Hey, Buck. Wanna go a few rounds? I’ve got some frustration to get out.” You forced a bit of a smile, waving your phone a bit which meant you were going to put on music. For the most part, Bucky adored your same music. He’d found that much of what you used to get yourself moving he also found motivating. Even your guilty pleasures, like “Call Me Maybe” were ones he’d accidentally hum around others, realize, and walk away before anyone could catch him.

He grinned widely, “Only if you promise to put on the Beastie Boys. I liked that one you played last time.” Bucky rubbed the back of his head before wiping perspiration from his face and strolled to you. He was clearly more than happy to help you be distracted from “hating” Tony. Of course, he used the term is quotes since he wasn’t stupid.

Apparently the two of you were, however.

Pressing a few buttons on the device that had been designed especially for you (not that you knew that), you opened the playlist and put on the Beastie Boys. Of course, “Sabotage” would be the first one to play as Bucky had been referring to that. After would be “Intergalactic”, “Make Some Noise”, “No Sleep”, “Ch-Check It Out”, and then “Girls”. You knew the man’s preferences, and if nothing else those were your favorites.

As soon as the music started you tossed your phone down and ran at Bucky. He was quick to dodge and immediately the sparring had begun. It was of course in time with the music which had kept the two of you going. Even as you dodges, spun, kicked, and took a few hits that Bucky had held back on, it felt good to be moving.

Soon the first song had ended and the next song was beginning. Which was when you heard it.

Without much warning other than some heavy bass, you knew almost immediately what was going on. The sparring paused and Bucky felt his eyes roll hard as he watched you stop and look up, “Is that… Ozzy?” You squinted a bit as the music came into play, eyes widening once it was clear, “That mother  _fucker_ ,” you spat the words out with vitriol and clenched your fists.

“Not this again.” Bucky muttered to himself as he turned to watch Stark stroll in without a care in the world. His hair was pushed back and he was donning a simple form-fitting black t-shirt, probably a size too small, and loose-hanging sweatpants. The man was here to piss you off.

He flashed a smile, “Oh, Y/N! Bucky! Fun coincidence, right?” Tony strolling onto the mats without a care in the world, keeping eye contact with you while Bucky tried hard not to say anything. He was the type to keep to himself and had avoided listening to you vent about Stark. Normally you kept it professional anyway, but he had a bad feeling.

Your eyes narrowed and you felt your fists clench, “We were in the middle of something, if you hadn’t noticed, and I had music playing.” It was clear how hard you were trying to keep your tone calm and even. Your heartrate was going up and your body was tensing but your tone and voice kept steady.

Stark shrugged, “Oh, you mean that garbage? Figured some good music might change things up a bit.”

Bucky placed his hand gently on your arm, “Y/N… Don’t.”

Closing your eyes you took a breath, trying to let go of the anger that was building, anger you had just worked so hard to get out of your system, “I don’t appreciate the change in music, Tony.”

He began to walk towards the lone punching bag he’d had soldered into the floor (thanks to Steve) and shrugged, “Not like it could make you any worse.”

Oh no. That was it.

“Shit.” Bucky muttered, stepping back as he watched you quickly storm towards Tony.

Angrily you got as close as you could without pushing him, “How  _fucking_ dare you, Tony! I’m a better fighter on my worst day than you could ever be! If you weren’t so goddamn full of yourself you might be able to see over your inflated ego!” Quickly your voice and tone had elevated, carried more by the acoustics in the room.

Tony turned back with his face just as irate, “Please! At least I put my skills to use. What were you doing? Wasting away until Fury happened to find you! Only motivation you even have is from this garbage music you listen to!”

Your face turned red as Bucky’s voice trying to calm the two of you down was lost, “Speaking of music, could you be any more inconsiderate? Just because the world doesn’t all bend to your will doesn’t mean you have to force it that way! You barely even let me fight when we’re working as a team! Which, by the way, is a fucking joke. The idea of you working with anyone other than your right hand!”

Arguably Bucky tried hard not to laugh, though Tony’s face flushed crimson at the low blow (no pun intended), “I get plenty of action thank you very much! At least I used to before you stepped in to this fucking place! Do you even leave?”

Now you had stepped closer, your face mere inches from his as you kept your eyes narrowed and fists clenched tightly, “You are such a piece of shit, Tony! I stay in here to get better at what I do! You just wander around and soak up the limelight because you’ve got such shitty self-esteem you need validation from the rest of the world!”

This fight was not about to end, and that much was clear to Bucky as he walked behind Tony. No, he was going to fix this. As Stark leaned in, probably to scream even harder, Bucky made a quick push to the billionaire’s back between his shoulder blades.

Tony hadn’t been paying attention, and neither had you, so he had no chance to stop himself as he felt his body crash into yours. You were pushed back against the firmly placed punching bag, surprised as Tony’s lips fell onto yours in a sort of perfect moment of collision. What had shocked you both, however, was that there was no fighting from the kiss.

Instead what happened next was more of a happy continuation, his lips staying hard against yours as he deepened the kiss, his eyes closing as he soaked in the feeling of himself against you. Your own arms wrapped around his neck and you tilted your head, feeling yourself explode at once with passion. It wasn’t anger, you realized, but an intense need. Tony hadn’t had women over because he’d felt so terribly distracted by you. Not because you were a burden, but because you were what he’d really wanted.

The only one who’d actually known was Bucky.

He watched as the two of you connected, rolling his eyes as he turned, making his way across his mat towards the door, “Friggen finally. Maybe now we can actually order dinner.”

His voice echoed, carrying to where the two of you were, both of you breaking from the kiss to laugh at his comment. As he walked out completely, leaving the two of you in peace, you grinned up at Tony, “Guess this means we’re going for sushi next time?”

He smirked down at you, a devilish look on his features, “I dunno. I sort of like what happens when I insist on Italian. I think I like disagreeing with you if this is where it gets us.”

You shook your head, “So what gives, Stark? I thought you hated me.”

He chuckled a little, leaning down and bumping his nose gently against yours in a surprisingly sweet gesture, “Call it envy. Spending all your time with everyone but me. Can’t help it if a guy gets a little jealous over a beautiful woman ignoring him.”

You laughed and smiled at him, giving him a chaste kiss on his lips before leaning your head back, “How about you just ask me on a date next time?”

He smirked, once more beginning to press his lips against you, “Are we fighting again? Because I think I like us fighting. But can we fight somewhere uh… more comfortable?”

You grinned, “I think we’ve got a lot of fighting to get out of our system.”


	10. Anything For You (Wolverine x Reader)

“Really? You thought just shootin’ shit with electricity was the solution here?” Wolverine’s voice had risen to an unreasonable decibel level as he got closer, claws withdrawn but still clearly defensive.

Your eyes narrowed, fists clenched, “It was the only option! Iceman was out of the way and Shadowcat was already intangible, no one would get hurt!” Your own voice had risen to match his, stepping closer and closing the little gap that was left.

You were both donning your X-Men attire and the world went on around the two of you. A Danger Room scenario put forth by the Professor who had noticed you and Wolverine going at it more than once on missions. While you were new to the group and needed some training you were beyond capable. You’d saved lives and already had a solid handle on your mutation. Charles had hoped you and Wolverine might click due to your similar ‘lone wolf’ mentalities, though it appeared much like magnets identical personalities sometimes repelled.

A quick breeze of air flew forth as the simulation dissipated, the air feeling like a gust as it pushed you both back, “Enough!” Ororo, or Storm, stepped forward between the two of you, incredulous as she watched, “Would it be at all possible for the two of you to get along?” Her eyes were wide, addressing the issue that had finally come to the forefront.

The Professor had approached you about a year ago when he’d realized you’d been doing vigilante work in New York. He’d rescued you from a lonesome world and given you the opportunity to work with the X-Men. It was a dream come true, you’d said. Immediately you clicked with Kitty, Bobby, and even Scott. It was hard not to have fun with them, Kitty playing keep-away with your stuff or Bobby creating ice sculptures for you and Scott to blast. Rogue was someone who came to you for help and you’d even let her practice some of her power absorption. Basically, the team trusted you.

Except Logan.

You supposed you’d use his name (though not his real name) now that training was over. He had given you the cold shoulder since your arrival. At first Bobby had reassured you he did this to everyone. You had tried a few tactics to get to know the man which included offering beer. He’d taken the beer and wandered off, however, leaving you to feel mildly hurt at your shunned gesture.

Things had only escalated after. During a routine mission to take out Sentinels targeting some teenage mutants a few states over Logan had gotten on your case about recklessness. You had used your abilities to overcharge one of the machines and caused it to fall. The fall itself was harmless but he had felt otherwise, “Do even fucking care about the rest of the team or maybe you wanna go back to that lone act you had goin’ on in the city?” He’d growled the words at you.

Your eyes widened, “I’m the lone wolf here? Please, you barely function with the team as it is!” He’d always kept his disdain hidden for the group and only kept his interactions with you around others brief. He’d only remain silent or refuse to answer in public. When the team wasn’t around was when the arguing went down. Always after missions. Always after fights.

The worst, of course, was when you’d managed to get pinned down and almost shot. Thankfully Bobby had frozen the gun of the man aimed at you when your back had been turned. Logan had lost it after. This was the first training since that mission.

You remembered him finding you after, alone, “You could have died!” He’d shouted at you, his grip on your arm sudden but oddly gentle. You had expected pain.

“Right, and you would have been so fucking broken up about it! Sure you would have lead the goddamn parade after.” You yanked your arm back and walked off, hiding the tears that welled in your eyes. You had tried everything to work things out with Logan and never had he even bothered to sit and talk.

You knew Xavier had tried, too. You’d been present when he stormed out of the office one day, eyes wide as they locked with Logan’s. He had frozen for a moment, exchanging something, you were unsure of what, before he grumbled and walked off.

Now you were faced with the seriousness, already working to remove the gloves from your hands that helped dampen the stray electricity as you made your way to the door, “So much for Canadians being nice.”

___

“I dunno, Marie. The man hates me.” You were sitting on the edge of your bed, staring out the large bay windows of your own room. The night had settled and you were relaxing after training. Rogue was someone who knew Logan best, you had figured, and you trusted her.

She shook her head, “Logan doesn’t hate anyone, Y/N. He just… he doesn’t know how to show his emotions. He’s stunted.” Her gloved hand reached out and touched your arm, looking to reassure the woman who had been so kind to her.

You looked down to the floor, “Maybe he’s right. I almost died last mission. Maybe I don’t know what I’m doing. What if he’s the only one actually being honest?” You didn’t know how painful the words might be to the woman trying to reassure you. What you’d meant was that you couldn’t believe you were actually accepted into a group. Always on the outside, you were adjusting to a life of working with others. Logan had made you question your own teammates now.

Rogue removed her hand, “You know that ain’t true. Professor wouldn’t let you on the team if he didn’t think you could manage. Some folks just take time gettin’ good. But you’re great. We all have slip-ups. It’s why we’re a team.” She was forcing a smile but she could see the damage was already done. Logan had made you question your abilities. A woman who had strolled into the building confident and poised now wondered if she belonged on a team. You were special, you knew that deep down, but Logan was making it impossible to work.

“I know, you’re right… but I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep trying and failing.” It was hard to dissuade your confidence but in a world that told mutants they weren’t enough you had felt so hurt by Logan’s words. Maybe there was another school. Or maybe you could go back to fighting on the streets.

Maybe that was all you had left.

___

A week had gone by since the incident, a week of silence in the Institute save for the X-Men. But especially a good deal of silence from you. The last few days had been off, which was what had prompted Logan to wander into the living room late one evening. His grizzled face looked mildly worse for wear but he was concerned. Not that he’d tell anyone.

Rogue was flipping through the channels as Logan took a seat on the couch, “Anything good on?” Small talk from a man who never made small talk was always palpably awkward.

Glancing over the woman raised an eyebrow, “Haven’t you done enough for one week? You seriously gonna sit here and act like nothin’ happened?” She was angry and Logan guessed that if she had any outward powers she might have exposed them by now.

He gave her a confused look, “Listen, bub. I’ve been makin’ myself scarce this past week since Y/N-”

“Since Y/N, what? It’s your fault she’s gone, Logan! Are you happy with yourself?” Her voice rose but not enough to wake the students. She was beyond angry. Logan had always been someone she liked but this had been unforgivable.

His eyes widened, however, much to Rogue’s own surprise, “She left? When did this happen?” If he’d been holding his beer he might have dropped it, but instead he stood up.

Rogue scoffed and went back to the TV, “Surprised you care. She left a few days ago. Said she couldn’t handle being treated like garbage. Said she was gonna make it on her own in New York again. Professor tried to keep her here, but she insisted. Gave her his blessing.”

Logan was beside himself. Sure, he’d given you a hard time, but had it really been that bad? Wasn’t he a jerk to everyone? He tried to think back on his own attitudes, his own past, closing his eyes as he shook his head, “Son of a bitch. I have to go.”

This wasn’t what he had wanted. Not by a long shot. Logan was a man who had kept everything he loved at a distance and for good reason. Working with the X-Men was done due to necessity and because he knew he could keep more people safe this way. He did as much as he could to bear the brunt of pain and damage that came down the line. He could heal, but you couldn’t.

Before Rogue could argue Logan was already downstairs and stealing Scott’s motorcycle once more. He had your address, admittedly, from his time looking up your history. A good student, a good person… a beautiful person. He had tried so hard not to fall in love with the one good thing in the Institute. He had promised himself after Jean that it would hurt too much to fall in love again. But there you were, stunning, witty, charismatic, and always looking to do good.

He had found himself standing outside the classroom you taught in more than once. He’d watched as you lectured and truly engaged the students. You had opened their eyes and had taught them to question the world but never themselves. He had fallen so hard for you. His decision to push you away was an attempt to keep you safe. Every mission where you’d even had a scratch or bruise he blamed himself. He wanted to make sure you never did. His anger had been at himself but he’d taken it  on you. He’d thought maybe if he pushed hard enough you might just stay at the Institute. Maybe you’d be safer.

But instead you’d left and he knew he couldn’t keep you safe if you were gone. He knew he’d have to talk to you and he knew he’d have to find you first. Already he was running through scenarios in his head as he sped down the highway. He had only ever wanted to keep you safe, and while you had experienced your fights one way, he had of course seen another.

When the soldier had almost shot you, Bobby thankfully freezing the gun in time, he had to hold back all his strength from maiming the man with the gun. He had gone off and drank until he was drunk for five minutes, given his healing and metabolism meant that this was certainly a feat. He had been terrified of losing you. His loss of his temper had only been temporary but enough to yell at you.

He remembered your words, telling him he’d be happier if you were dead. It had stopped him in his tracks. He had quieted as he watched you leave and for a moment contemplated apologizing. There were memories of pain he had, especially after Project X, but the pain he’d felt before couldn’t even compare with the emotional wound you had dealt. He had admittedly taken it poorly by lashing out at training. It had just been distressing. The idea of losing you had only wrecked him inside. It had destroyed him.

It barely registered how fast he had been going until he realized he was actually weaving through traffic in the city now. He mentally made note to avoid Peter Parker (as much as that webslinger was his friend, he wasn’t in the mood to chat.) It had taken a moment of manuevering before he had found your address and apartment, practically dropping the bike outside. It was Scott’s anyway. He didn’t really care.

Inside you were watching a movie, admittedly going for horror as a way to distract yourself. You’d found that being scared was sometimes easier than being sad. Besides, you’d seen the Scream series enough to know the plot. It never stopped you from being startled, however.

Had Logan wound up at your door maybe a few hours before, he wouldn’t have startled you. But he had decided to knock at your door, rather harshly too, at a more intense moment. The knocking, coupled with the movie, had elicited a sharp scream. Sure you weren’t proud of your startle response, but you never exactly had issues.

The man on the other side, however, felt differently. All he heard was a scream, prompting him to sharply throw the door open, breaking off the knob, “Y/N!” He came stumbling in, surprised as you practically fell off your couch wrapped in a blanket.

Your eyes were wide, “Logan! What in the actual fuck are you doing?!” He was standing there, leather jacket and all, claws bared as he stood in your entryway with your sad, pathetic door hanging uselessly on its hinges, “Aw man… my door.” You adjusted the blanket around you, holding up your hand as you motioned to it.

He stepped in, “I… I heard you scream.”

You scowled a bit, “Yeah, I’m watching a horror movie. You startled me. I wasn’t expecting anyone.” You brushed past him and towards the door, sighing gently as you examined the poor thing. Good thing Charles had helped you out with some cash. You imagined a new door this late at night wasn’t going to be easy.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting to be here. Y/N, we need to talk. Why’d you leave?” He gently took your arm, pulling you towards him. There was compassion and concern on his face that you weren’t used to seeing. It was reassuring, and it was good. It was what you had wanted from your first day in the school. Getting Logan’s approval wasn’t just because he was a veteran and a good man, but because you’d always liked him. Until you didn’t.

You turned your face, “You hate me, Logan. You made it clear from day one. I’ve tried so hard to get into your good graces and be a good person. I thought getting better at fighting and training might help but… it never did. I couldn’t cope with that any longer.”

You took your arm back gently, surprised when you felt his warm, calloused hand on your face, “Sort of why I’m here. Guess I… I’ve never had good luck tellin’ folks how I feel. Always thought if I kept you at a distance you’d be safer. Maybe scare you off the team. Idea of you gettin’ hurt kills me.”

Staring at him you shook your head, “So why not just tell me? Why put me through that?”

He frowned, stepping closer, “Don’t really have a good excuse. I’m bad at this, Y/N. Real bad. But believe me when I say I’ve only ever wanted you safe. You gettin’ hurt makes me hurt ten times worse. I just worry.”

You forced a smile, reaching up and brushing your own hand against his grizzled cheek, “I wish you would have said it sooner, Logan. I’m a tough cookie. You being an asshole won’t stop me from fighting,” you flashed him a wide grin.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, nodding, “Clearly. Rogue told me you were gonna. So how about you head back to the school with me instead. Door’s broken anyway, can’t have you stayin’ here,” he flashed you a wide grin.

You laughed, nodding, “All right, Wolverine. But you gotta promise to stop being such a dick.” You punched his arm playfully.

He grinned, pulling you close with his hands on your hips, leaning down, “For you, beautiful? Anything.” 


End file.
